Goddess of the Circle [The Men of Five-0 #5] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Read online

  The Men of Five-0 #5

  SWAT Team Seven: Goddess of the Circle

  Kamea Mahalan is hiding her identity with an ultimate goal to take out the wolf who massacred her family. Forced to evade being killed, she hid in a secret spot her father taught her and listened as her family was murdered. Following a plan, she escapes and is aided by two wolves who her father trusted and is taught everything she needs to know about her family and being of wolf decent. She didn’t count on getting discovered by her mates or the one she seeks revenge upon.

  Mano, Gideon, Chordeo, Chance, and Edric Dolberg are members of a SWAT Team, hold position in a secret order her father was part of, and are determined to protect her as their mate. She has her agenda until fate steps in and gives the responsibility to choose between her decade-long promise of revenge, or her responsibility to her destiny.

  Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.

  Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 61,365 words

  SWAT TEAM SEVEN: GODDESS OF THE CIRCLE

  The Men of Five-0 #5

  Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  LOVEXTREME FOREVER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: LoveXtreme Forever

  SWAT TEAM SEVEN: GODDESS OF THE CIRCLE

  Copyright © 2013 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-183-8

  First E-book Publication: June 2013

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of SWAT Team Seven: Goddess of the Circle by Dixie Lynn Dwyer from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

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  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Dixie Lynn Dwyer’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Dwyer’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  SWAT TEAM SEVEN: GODDESS OF THE CIRCLE

  The Men of Five-0 #5

  DIXIE LYNN DWYER

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue

  Kamea Mahalan held her breath. She could hear them rummaging through the house, making certain that there weren’t any survivors. She lay hidden in the storage bench near her father’s desk. She was barely small enough to fit into the compartment but she knew it was a life-or-death situation. Her father had taught her, since the day she could understand what danger was, how to find safety in there. While other kids worried about what outfit to wear to school, which dance classes they would take, Kamea practiced self-defense, became trained in survival techniques, and learned to trust no one but her mother, her father, and two brothers.

  Now they were all dead. The sounds of their cries of pain were embedded in her mind. What sounded like growls, echoed in the distance and she couldn’t even cover her ears. She tried to stop her mind from thinking. Any movement or sound would alert the intruders to her presence. Her entire family was dead. She just knew it. She practiced her breathing technique. Just as daddy had taught her to do in such a critical situation. She wasn’t to move an inch, not try to run into the open where they could pick her off with a bullet, but instead lay silent as her family members screamed for mercy.

  She heard the male voices, muffled by the thin layer of wood that pressed against her chest and face. Thank the lord that she wasn’t claustrophobic. Her father told her that he had it made especially for her. He recently joked about coming up with a different plan and location because she was getting older.

  Right above her, the chest opened. Her eyes widened in shock. Would they figure out the hidden space below? Would they capture her? Who were they? What did they look like? She wondered as her heart raced. Her throat felt as if she would choke for air and she prayed she didn’t sneeze or make a sound. Kamea closed her eyes and held her breath.

  “Why are you looking in there? She is dead, I told you. Didn’t you see the body?” one asked.

  “I am making sure. The neighbor’s kid looked identical to the Mahalan child.”

  “We need to go. The job is done. Mahalan will no longer be a threat to the Morago organization or to Divanni and his cause. Let’s go.”

  The Morago organization? Divanni?

  She waited for what seemed like hours before she felt that it was safe to leave. What did the men mean by the neighbor’s child? The thought hit her at once. Her best friend Cella was supposed to come over to play, but then the bad men came into the house.

  As she slowly pushed the lid up, she absorbed the sight of the office, the quiet of the home, and the warm, tropical Hawaiian breeze that filtered through the curtains. Her heart pounded inside of her chest. She was twelve years old and as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she wondered, prayed, even though she knew in her gut that they weren’t alive, that perhaps someone survived.

  Kamea tiptoed out of the room. Her body shook with fear. Every small noise or creak made her jump. The light breeze pushed the shutters open a little further. As she looked, she noticed the torn curtains, the way the wooden shutters hung by broken hinges. The sounds were eerie to her ears.

  She listened attentively for any indication that someone was still there but heard nothing. Her legs shook so terribly she thought her knees would give out. The moment she
exited the hallway to the great room, she saw the blood splattered on the walls. She covered her mouth and gasped as what was left of her siblings’ bodies came into view. She began to sob, looking through blurred vision at her mother next and then her father. As she heard a moan, she ran to his side, falling to her knees against the blood that oozed from his stomach. A gun remained in his hand. He looked at her. He appeared shocked and his eyes almost glowed with specks of dark green and yellow.

  “Kamea?”

  “Oh, Daddy, what should I do? Do I call for an ambulance?”

  “No. Run away. Do as I taught you. Never return again. Never let anyone know you are alive. I love you.”

  He made an odd sound then remained staring at her as he took his last breath.

  She sobbed as she reached down and took the gun that lay by his lifeless body. She checked the clip and knew that it was half-full. Kamea tried to just breathe and think about what her father taught her and the steps to take, but her mind was fuzzy and her body continued to shake. She closed her eyes, immediately envisioning him in her mind. He gave her directions. She could see him there, enforcing the importance of remembering the safety of the bench with the hidden compartment in his office and the duffle bag of items in the downstairs basement wall. She jumped up, taking in the horrific sight and feeling the urge to vomit. She couldn’t leave evidence of her survival behind. Sooner than later, the ones responsible would find out that she was alive.

  She ran to the basement door and down the stairs. Making her way into the hidden cubby in the back corner, she spotted the loose paneling and pulled it open. There sat the duffle bag. The one containing instructions about what she needed to do. This was really happening. She lost her entire family. She was completely alone.

  Kamea pulled out the note. It was typed and orderly, just like her father. She read the three steps as she powered up the phone.

  Hit #1 on speed dial. Use the five dollars to catch the bus a mile down the road. Take the hidden route and not the street.

  Code words - Wolf Pack.

  Kamea had no idea what that meant as she quickly gathered the bag and headed back upstairs. She thought she heard a noise as she snuck out the back door and into the tropical Hawaiian warmth. In the distance she heard the sound of vehicles as she quickly hurried through the thick trees and palms. She didn’t want to take the chance of being caught. No one could be trusted. Only the person she contacted on the phone. She made it to the bus stop, heart pounding, palms sweating, and immediately boarded the bus and went to the far back. It was empty. She opened the phone and hit number one.

  It rang multiple times and then a deep, yet calm voice answered.

  “Kamea?”

  “Password please,” she responded with tears in her eyes and voice shaking.

  “Wolf Pack.”

  She listened to the directions of the one on the phone then hung up. Closing her eyes, she waited for the trip to end and for what was to come.

  “Melena. Melena.”

  Melena awoke in a cold sweat, sitting upright in bed. Her hand instinctively reached for the pistol under the pillow next to her in the king-sized bed.

  She looked around her apartment and toward the blinds that blocked the sunlight and her view of the New York City skyline.

  She heard Saxton’s voice coming from the intercom on the side of the bed.

  She reached for the button.

  “I’m up. I’ll be over in a bit.”

  Releasing the revolver, she rolled to the left and reached to the bedside table for the remote. For the last ten years, she woke up in the same way. A cold sweat, visions of her murdered family, and the smell of blood tainted her mind and her senses. Twenty-two years old and she was still frightened of the dark and whom or what potentially lurked in the shadows waiting to pounce on their prey. She would never be prey again. Vengeance was her life.

  As she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she pressed the button on the remote then tossed it back onto the table. Her head felt foggy. Every night for the last ten years, she dreamt of that dreadful day. The day she lost her entire family. Saxton and Tango, compatriots of her father, let her know from the start that they were her protectors and her guides through life. They were her trainers, her educators, her only connection to a relationship of some kind. She swallowed hard.

  As she walked across the room to the bathroom, the blinds began to open and the gorgeous sunlight illuminated her dark bedroom.

  After washing up, getting dressed and making a cup of coffee, she glanced at the manila folder on the table and then back out toward the New York City skyline. It was a gorgeous spring day. Last week, her travels brought her into the outskirts of Pennsylvania and a warehouse filled with antique furniture filled with illegal drugs. Coriano Morago was a modern-day crime boss who had his hands in everything from street drugs and stealing cars to working with terrorists. That had been how he got to her father and her family. Melena took a deep breath then felt the anger deep in her gut.

  Her father worked for the US government. The Friday before that weekend that ended his life and the lives of his family members, he had engaged in a meeting with some wolves from an organization called the Brothers of Were. In that meeting he was acknowledged as having located the source of illegal arms and chemical weapons being exchanged for millions of dollars’ worth of rare artifacts and jewels. Some dating back as far as during the Old Testament. But there was one particular treasure that had yet to be located and brought to the proper owners. It was a book of some kind. A book that gave names and locations of some sort of royalty to an organization she knew little about or cared to give respect to. Many people across a multitude of countries sought this collection of treasures and this book. Apparently the one who held the book and read from an inscription could unlock the information within. She wasn’t sure if it was a fantasy story, but she knew that Morago and half the criminal element she came across were seeking this book out. None of that really mattered to her. Destroying Morago did.

  She headed to the room to get dressed. She was going to work out and then do some recon on the next place of interest Morago owned. She uncovered the names of two known criminals that operated an illegal arms business on west Madison. It was an old warehouse, currently used to store new furniture for a major manufacturer. But in the back room there was a vault and in that vault were jewels from her family that Morago sold to these criminals. She wanted them back, and tonight, she would get them.

  Chapter 1

  “Are you sure about this?” Edric Dolberg asked Gideon, as he and their brothers, Chance, Mano, and Chordeo, prepared their weapons and looked over the blueprints of the building.

  “I got word from headquarters that this operation has been identified, confirmed, and in need of removal,” Gideon said.

  Edric looked at his brother, the team leader of SWAT Team Seven. He was good at his job. He was hard core and thorough. He would never place the team, his pack brothers, in jeopardy.

  “How come they want to take this operation out? There have been others that remain in operation, supplying the public with illegal drugs and weapons. So what’s the deal with this one?” Chance asked.

  Gideon looked at his brothers as he placed his weapon in his holster. To Edric, Gideon appeared angry and focused. His blue eyes looked more like black. He always got that way before a mission.

  “The intelligence indicates these two men running the business have ties to terrorists. One of them has been identified as a member of an active terrorist cell. You know the drill. We don’t allow such individuals the freedom to grow stronger. These men have the potential to cause some serious problems.”

  “Okay, Gideon. Just tell us what to look for. Is it a search-and-destroy mission or are we taking prisoners?” Chordeo asked.

  Gideon glared at Chordeo then back toward the front of the vehicle and the direction the driver was going.

  “We do what is necessary. My understanding is that we have backup on st
andby to take prisoners. However, the two assholes in charge need to be captured and escorted to the holding facility on the east side. If all goes well, we will personally be escorting those prisoners to the facility.”

  “Got it,” Mano stated. Then the driver indicated that they were five minutes from the location.

  * * * *

  Melena felt entirely restricted in the black body suit she was wearing. But she couldn’t risk getting her clothing snagged on some sharp edges or leaving her scent or her DNA behind. This was a not so easy job to pull off. Dashkin and Lunvolk ultimately worked for Count Lumanesque Divanni. That bastard thought the jewels of the wolf heritage belonged to a bunch of anti-American terrorists with no allegiance to anything but their greed and power. Well, tonight, they were going to lose some of those goodies, and perhaps her housemates and protectors, Saxton and Tango, were able to come through with notifying the authorities about precisely what these men were dealing in. Terrorism was not accepted or tolerated among legitimate were or humans.

  Melena eased her way through the venting system. It was hot, it was a tight fit, and despite her large bust, she eased her way through to the main office where the vault was located.

  As she crawled over the first section, she saw the many workers gathering up weapons and crates, labeling and doing whatever illegal criminal terrorists do with weapons as they distribute them. She hoped Saxton and Tango made the call. If so, these assholes would be locked up in no time. She just hoped the authorities didn’t rush in to invade while she was still in the building. She needed to be quick. All her training, and of course extracurricular thrills, had to be worth the effort. She would succeed. She would find all the items and possessions that belonged to her family and she would one day be in possession of every one of them. Morago was an asshole.